Cat Power—Chan Marshall—wanted to mark the moment in 1966 that "informs everything …  this precipice of time that changed music forever": Bob Dylan's "Royal Albert Hall Concert" (actually played at the Manchester Free Trade Hall), the one when he switched from acoustic to electric midway through—prompting an incensed folk purist to yell out "Judas!" Fifty-six years after that concert, Marshall delivered a sublime song-for-song re-creation of the set, at the actual Royal Albert Hall. "I'm not being Bob … I'm just recreating it, that's all. But not making it mine," she has said. Inevitably, though, the songs do become hers. It's evident right away, from "She Belongs to Me" (and shortly after, "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue"), the influence Dylan has long had on Cat Power's music. But with her husky voice, so like Nico's now and far from Dylan's youthful reediness, revealing traces of her Georgia upbringing ("She don't look baaaaack") and contrasting the clean acoustic guitar and shiny harmonica, she owns it. "Desolation Row" is a twelve-and-a-half minute marvel. The guitar is not blindingly bright like Charlie McCoy's flamenco flavor, but that works well with Marshall's more serious/less jaunty air here. Without aping Dylan, she hits his inflections, putting exuberant emphasis on the ends of lines ("And the good Samaritan! He's dressing!"). Her "Visions of Johanna" underscores the prettiness of the melody, while the way she sings the name "Jo-hanna" make it feel so much more exotic than it is. She gets playful with the familiar phrasing on the chorus of "Mr. Tambourine Man" and sings "Just Like a Woman" beautifully, offering a softer, less angular version of Dylan's classic. At 50, she was twice the age of Dylan when he recorded the song for Blonde on Blonde, and you can hear—feel—the extra tread on her heart. When electrified "Tell Me Momma" kicks in like the Wizard of Oz Technicolor moment, it's as thrilling as it's supposed to be, the first word of the titular line bitingly crisp each time. "I Don't Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met)" plays up the soulful grooviness that always feels a little buried on Dylan's live recording, while "Baby, Let Me Follow You Down" expertly captures his wild-eyed edginess. Marshall's "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" is more elegant, even with its raw edges, than Dylan's young-man machismo. She does not recreate things down to the between-song patter but there is a moment, just before "Ballad of a Thin Man" (so slinky, so powerful), when someone yells out "Judas!"—and Marshall, serenely, responds, "Jesus." "I wasn't expecting the audience to recreate their part of the original show as well, but then I wanted to set the record straight—in a way, Dylan is a deity to all of us who write songs," she has said. And, as it did in 1966, closer "Like a Rolling Stone" sounds like liberation; maybe even like Marshall knows some part of this is hers now. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Proving that she's both fearless and capable of almost anything musically, Dolly Parton has taken her induction in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame seriously and made a rock album built from a slew of favorite mainstream covers and several originals she wrote for the occasion. The respect she commands as a worldwide celebrity is reflected by the massive guest list whose vocal tracks were recorded elsewhere and mixed together in Nashville by producer Kent Wells and a veritable horde of engineers. Vocalists who make an appearance on the songs that they originally made famous include Sting ("Every Breath You Take"), Steve Perry ("Open Arms"), Elton John ("Don't Let the Sun Go Down"), Debbie Harry ("Heart of Glass"), and Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr ("Let It Be"). The voice of Lynyrd Skynyrd lead vocalist Ronnie Van Zant returns from the grave to sing a verse and duet on the choruses in the epic and appropriate closer, "Free Bird."  While Parton could have allowed a smile to peak out here or there on this massive undertaking, she plays it straight throughout.  Not surprisingly, women receive commendable attention as songwriters and guest players with performances by Ann Wilson, Parton's goddaughter Miley Cyrus, Stevie Nicks, Joan Jett, Lizzo and others. There are also flashes where Parton stops playing rock star. Her original "World on Fire" is a plea for unity and common sense to will out: "Now tell me what is truth/ Have we all lost sight/ Of common decency/ Of the wrong and right/ How do we heal this great divide/ Do we care enough to try?" What makes these 30 tracks work is that no one can sell it quite like Parton. While her voice strains on some  numbers—she's always been more of a careful interpreter than a furious belter—she's full of old pro wiles and is the soul of authenticity throughout; she gives her all to every number. In the rousing "(I Can't Get No) "Satisfaction" with P!nk and Brandy Carlile, Parton's between-line exhortations are heartfelt and spot on. Rather than arty re-interpretations or an empty marketing concept, this is an abundance of what Parton does best: feel the songs she's singing.  © Robert Baird/Qobuz

Who's Next is not an album lacking for reissues. In addition to a deluxe edition from 2003, there have also been multiple audiophile editions and remasters of the album since its 1971 release. So what could a "super deluxe edition" possibly contain? Quite a bit, as it turns out. As even casual Who fans know, the genesis of Who's Next was as Lifehouse, a multimedia rock opera even more ambitious than Tommy. Pete Townshend had developed a bizarre, dystopian story that somehow merged his devotion to Indian guru Meher Baba, his recent fascination with synthesizers, and the idea that the only thing that could save humanity from a test-tube-bound future was "real rock 'n' roll." Yeah, the aftereffects of the '60s were wild. After some live shows at the Young Vic in London and a series of marathon recording sessions, a 16-song tracklist was finalized, but by this point, it was collectively decided—both creatively and commercially—that perhaps another concept-dense double album might not be the best studio follow-up to Tommy. So, eight Lifehouse songs were re-cut and one new song ("My Wife") was recorded and the leaner, meaner Who's Next was released in August 1971. The album was both an instant success and has become an undisputed part of the classic rock canon, thanks to the inclusion of absolutely iconic tracks like "Won't Get Fooled Again," "Baba O'Riley," and "Behind Blue Eyes."While one could make an argument that the taut and focused power of Who's Next inadvertently proved the point of the Lifehouse story (namely, that rock 'n' roll is most effective when it's at its most primal), it's important to remember that Who's Next was also a giant artistic leap forward for the Who, as it found them at the peak of their powers as a pummeling rock band and as a band willing to be experimental and artful in their approach to being a pummeling rock band. (If any evidence is needed of the group's unrivaled power, check out take 13 of "Won't Get Fooled Again" on this set, which is so immediate and electric that it could easily be mistaken for a concert performance.) While several Lifehouse tracks found their way to other Who and Townshend records, getting a sense of the contours of the project has been difficult. But this massive, 155-track set creates those lines thanks to the inclusion of multiple Townshend demos as well as recording sessions of Life House tracks that occurred both before and after the release of Who's Next, and, most notably, two freshly mixed live shows from 1971 (including one of the Young Vic shows) that provided both the energy and, in some cases the basic tracks, for the album versions. While nothing on this bursting-at-the-seams edition overrides the all-killer-no-filler approach of Who's Next, it does provide plenty of long-desired context and documentation for what made that record so powerful. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

Recorded in London with Andy Wright, their regular producer, this Simply Red album was first conceived as a scathing response to the COVID-19 pandemic. In order to get through this difficult period, Mick Hucknall, the famous lead singer of the British group (founded in 1985), focused on the positive things that surrounded him and attempted to transcribe this state of mind into his music. Among these positive elements are his wife and family, to whom he dedicates the opening song, Better With You, with its resplendent melody and energetic rhythm. In similar fashion to this track, the album is full of songs that emanate a contagious optimism – whether it’s funky (Just Like You), bluesy (Slapbang), rock (Too Long At The Fair), or even jazzy (Butterflies). It’s also clear that the red-haired singer-songwriter demonstrates his gift for the sensual ballad, especially when it allows him to showcase his famous falsetto (Let Your Hair Down, and his impressive guitar solo thanks to Kenji Suzuki). Mick Hucknall also mentions certain current topics that are close to his heart, such as the migrant crisis in Hey Mister. The album ends with Earth In A Lonely Space, clearly influenced by the Beatles' Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds. A flagship group of the 1980s, influenced by the 1960s yet perfectly at ease in their 2023 sneakers: this is Simply Red showing everything they’ve got to offer with their 13th album. ©Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

By 1969 the Beatles' universe had become terminally messy: tensions between the four members were at an all-time high and the band was coming apart. As this collection's producer Giles Martin (son of the band's producer and confidante George Martin) says in the liner notes, by that time the foursome had become "a bit like a married couple trying to go on dates again." The personal struggles and financial tangles they'd been through as a band had done its damage and the magic was ebbing away. In an effort to get the foursome back to what it felt like to perform live—and perhaps foster a return of their famous camaraderie—Paul McCartney came up with the idea of filming the band playing an entirely new batch of songs. Launched at Twickenham Film Studios, the production soon moved to the band's own home studio in the basement of the Apple Corps headquarters on Savile Row. The group even reconvened on the building's rooftop for an impromptu concert that was filmed and recorded but also stopped after less than an hour by the police due to noise complaints. The resulting album, Get Back, with Glyn Johns as engineer and co-producer, was eventually shelved in favor of Abbey Road (released in September 1969). In 1970, after Lennon had officially left the band, the remaining trio finished the album, now known as Let It Be, switching out takes, dropping several songs and resequencing it with help from Phil Spector who overdubbed his usual grandiose orchestral arrangements onto four tracks. (In 2003 McCartney's dissatisfaction with Spector's additions—particularly on his tune "The Long and Winding Road"—led to a stripped-down version of the album closer to John's original concept, called Let It Be…Naked.) Now the Giles Martin-led Beatles reissue program which began in 2017 with Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Band has finally reached Let It Be and the results are once again rewarding for Beatles fans and newcomers alike. The five volumes are yet another tantalizing glimpse into the band's storied creative process. Although the reception for the album was largely mixed on release—some reviewers savaged it—the songs in retrospect are nothing short of amazing; this is by no means bottom-of-the-barrel Beatles. Tunes like "Get Back," "Let It Be," and "The Long and Winding Road" are as good as anything the band ever wrote or recorded. The first volume here contains the original album in a fresh 96 kHz/24-bit remix that like the other Giles Martin-directed mixes is sharper and brighter than the original but not fundamentally different. The biggest aural change has Ringo Starr's drums brought up and forward in the mix, like in the previous reissues in the series. Perhaps most important about this edition of Let It Be is that after years of being bootlegged, Glyn Johns' 1969 Get Back mix has finally been officially released in improved sound and can now be fairly compared to the 1970 version. Deliberately jumbled, with lots of studio patter left in, and meant to be a window into the band's loose, humorous way of making music (or what they hoped to project as such), it still feels sloppy and unfinished, which may be why The Beatles—who waffled throughout the process and initially wanted that ambiance—rejected it in en masse. Johns' mix opens with "One After 909" (written by Paul and John as teenagers) and then proceeds through looser versions of "Don't Let Me Down" (with fabulous accompaniment from keyboardist Billy Preston) "Dig A Pony," and "I've Got a Feeling" with Lennon adding his usual silly, sardonic asides throughout. George Harrison's "For You Blue" opens with the sound of ice cubes swirling in a drink. McCartney's much maligned "Teddy Boy," which didn't make the final cut of Let It Be but became part of McCartney's first solo album, is heard here with Lennon's famous mocking "Do-Si-Do" background comment left intact. Volume two features an exuberant rave up of "Maggie Mae" and "Fancy My Chances with You"—a tune John and Paul wrote together in 1958. The overall vibe in these sessions is not nearly as hostile as history would have it as evidenced by a take of "Let It Be" mashed up with "Please Please Me." A jammy take of "One After 909" is good fun, take 19 of "Get Back" features Paul laughing in rhythm with the tune, and George's instrumental jam up of "Wake Up Little Susie" which transitions into his song, "I Me Mine" with a blues break in the middle is a wonderful reminder of his essential but often forgotten part of the group. Early versions of tunes that were soon to appear on Abbey Road or the member's subsequent solo albums are featured on the third volume. A rehearsal shows George's "All Things Must Pass," the title track of his debut solo album, beginning to take shape. A slow take of "She Came in Through the Bathroom Window," that mixes music with studio patter shows them working through an arrangement. Ringo, who is rarely heard, appears in an early piano-and-voice version of "Octopus's Garden" where teacups can be heard clanking in their saucers. In a jam of "Oh! Darling" Paul speaks a verse before he and Lennon go back to raggedly harmonizing, while Preston adds his spot-on, amazingly instinctual keyboard flourishes. In the same song, John announces that Yoko's divorce has gone through. Preston sings a version of "Without a Song," a tune he'd later release on his 1971 album I Wrote a Simple Song. The passionate unreleased 1970 Glyn Johns mix of "Across the Universe" on volume five is a reminder of the utterly unique pop universe that The Beatles had created. That's further confirmed in the same collection by a sparkling new mix of the single version of "Let It Be." Yet another entry—the last?—in Giles Martin's illuminating efforts to expand on the legacy, the new Let It Be provides deeper insight into the essential question around the Fab Four: How the hell did they do it? © Robert Baird/Qobuz

Without a doubt, George Harrison's first solo recording, originally issued as a triple album, is his best. Drawing on his backlog of unused compositions from the late Beatles era, Harrison crafted material that managed the rare feat of conveying spiritual mysticism without sacrificing his gifts for melody and grand, sweeping arrangements. Enhanced by Phil Spector's lush orchestral production and Harrison's own superb slide guitar, nearly every song is excellent: "Awaiting on You All," "Beware of Darkness," the Dylan collaboration "I'd Have You Anytime," "Isn't It a Pity," and the hit singles "My Sweet Lord" and "What Is Life" are just a few of the highlights. A very moving work, with a slight flaw: the jams that comprise the final third of the album are somewhat dispensable, and have probably only been played once or twice by most of the listeners who own this record. Those same jams, however, played by Eric Clapton, Carl Radle, Bobby Whitlock, and Jim Gordon (all of whom had just come off of touring as part of Delaney & Bonnie's band), proved to be of immense musical importance, precipitating the formation of Derek & the Dominos. Thus, they weren't a total dead end, and may actually be much more to the liking of the latter band's fans.© Richie Unterberger & Bruce Eder /TiVo

A sequel to Nicki Minaj's 2010 debut Pink Friday, this super-stuffed album (22 tracks, 70-plus minutes) finds the rap queen defending her throne and showing off her diverse range of skills. It kicks off with a slow jam, "Are You Gone Already"—a lullaby for her dad, killed in a hit-and-run in 2022—that interpolates large, sped-up chunks of Billie Eilish's "When the Party's Over." But right after that is "Barbie Dangerous" highlighting Minaj's signature rapid-fire precision on inventive verses that reference her young son (nicknamed Papa Bear): "Name a rapper that can channel Big Poppa and push out Papa Bear/ Ho, I'm mother of the year." Moody "Nicki Hendrix," featuring an Auto-Tuned Future serves as a reminder tha Minaj can sing with real emotion. Excellent "Let Me Calm Down" shines with a '90s throwback feel—delivering silky-smooth R&B balladry, hard-spitting from Minaj and a breathtaking, roller-coaster guest turn from J. Cole as he defends the queen. Indeed, Minaj flexes her power via the big names she's able to enlist. Drake brings the sexy come-ons for dance-floor ready "Needle," with its island-breeze vibes and references to Minaj's Trinidadian origin story. On twinkly "RNB," Lil Wayne goads and Tate Kobang croons, while Minaj swears her ride-or-die devotion. As usual, Minaj seemingly takes swipes at rivals, including Megan Thee Stallion on bombastic "FTCU." She also pulls out her notorious alter egos, such as Harajuku Barbie on "Cowgirl"—which also shines with dreamy singer-songwriter guitar and Lourdiz singing sweetly about a sex position. Minaj's other selves mostly stay in the closet, though new addition Red Ruby gets introduced via irresistible "Red Ruby da Sleeze," a spicy dancehall-flavored track that samples Lumidee's 2003 hit "Never Leave You." Pop hits are put to good use on bass-booming "My Life" (Blondie's "Heart of Glass") and "Pink Friday Girls," which borrows all the best part of Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" and is sheer exuberance in the vein of Minaj's 2012 classic "Starships." Divisive "Everybody" turns the madness up to 11, sampling the Junior Senior earworm "Move Your Feet" and layering on a tongue-twister verse from Lil Uzi Vert. Minaj sprays her lyrics in short spurts and cleverly uses the sample: "Pretty face with a Barbie doll (Body)/ 'Nother year, 'nother Vince Lom' (Body)." Get ready, because it's going to be blasting from cars and TikTok videos for months to come. Super fun "Super Freaky Girl" samples Rick James and leans hard into a cheerleader chant ("F-R-EEEE-A-K"), with lines that range from cartoon double-entendres to plainspoken raunch. Minaj completely switches gears on "Blessings," featuring gospel singer Tasha Cobbs Leonard, and sincerely thanks God for all she has in life. Finally, she switches to a deeper, T-Boz-like register and reggae feel for "Just the Memories"—a sincere-sounding reminder of how Minaj got here: "I remember when I was the girl that everybody doubted/ When every label turned me down, and then they laughed about it/ I 'member goin' home and writin' fifty more raps." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

In its original form, Let It Be signaled the end of an era, closing the book on the Beatles, as well as literally and figuratively marking the end of the '60s. The 1970 release evolved from friction-filled sessions the band intended to be an organic, bare-bones return to their roots. Instead, the endless hours of tapes were eventually handed over to Phil Spector, since neither the quickly splintering Beatles nor their longtime producer George Martin wanted to sift through the voluminous results. Let It Be... Naked sets the record straight, revisiting the contentious sessions, stripping away the Spectorian orchestrations, reworking the running order, and losing all extemporaneous in-studio banter. On this version of the album, filler tracks ("Dig It," "Maggie Mae") are dropped, while the juicy B-side "Don't Let Me Down" is added. The most obvious revamping is on the songs handled heavily by Spector. Removing the orchestrations from "The Long and Winding Road" and "Across the Universe" gives Paul McCartney's vocals considerably more resonance on the former, doing the same for John Lennon's voice and guitar on the latter. This alternate take on Let It Be enhances the album's power, reclaiming the raw, unadorned quality that was meant to be its calling card from the beginning.© TiVo

As much for the wider public as for his great many fans, Neil Young's Harvest represents the pinnacle of his rich discography from the seventies. Founded upon country-rock and melancholic folk, the so-called loner's art shines ever brightly throughout this fourth album, released back in February 1972. It is a gold mine full of bucolic, pastoral gems, recorded with a new group of brilliant musicians called the Stray Gators: Ben Keith on steel guitar, Kenny Buttrey on drums, Tim Drummond on bass, and the great Jack Nitzsche on piano and arrangement. Harvest, which frequently displays Young's tumultuous relationship with actress Carrie Snodgress (mother of his first son Zeke) also incorporates some impressive somber moments, such as in "The Needle and the Damage Done," a stunning ballad about his heroin-addicted guitarist Danny Whitten, who died of an overdose in November that same year, just after being kicked out of the band.But behind the "peace and love" bliss enhanced by contributions from David Crosby, Stephen Stills and Graham Nash, as well as James Taylor and Linda Ronstadt, Harvest remains a rich, tormented and melodically flawless work—one on which the violins of the London Symphony Orchestra ("A Man Needs a Maid" and "There's a World") are handled with care and taste. It is an album that will influence many future generations, and which celebrates its 50th birthday with this luxurious edition decked out with an additional 17 tracks. The solo concert at the BBC on February 23, 1971, will surely be a gem among collectors of Neil Young bootlegs. As a bonus, there are alternative versions of three tracks ("Bad Fog of Loneliness", "Journey Through the Past" and "Dance Dance Dance"). This 50th Anniversary Deluxe Edition is surely a must-have. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

The storied reggae artist (and heir to the throne as Bob Marley's second son) Stephen Marley takes a new turn on his fifth solo album Old Soul. After years as a supporting player and behind-the-scenes producer, Marley emerged with solo work in the late 2000s as a powerful hybrid of roots reggae and modernized hip-hop, sometimes speckled with moments of dancehall fun for good measure. Born from nightly acoustic jams at the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, Old Soul is considerably mellower, matching soft sentiments on love, family, and the circle of life with spare arrangements that float out of the speakers like a gentle breeze. Tunes like the autobiographical title track and the lover's rock-influenced "Standing in Love" (which features a cameo from Slightly Stoopid's Kyle McDonald) keep the percussion and electric instruments to a minimum, making acoustic guitar melodies and sweet vocal harmonies the main focus. Buju Banton contributes to the perky ska number "Thanks We Get (Do Fi Dem)" and there's a reggae foundation to the brooding "Cast the First Stone" (aided by brother Damian Marley), but even these tracks are lighter readings of traditional reggae and reggae-adjacent sounds. Elsewhere, Marley curiously explores whatever style he feels, drifting through jazz standards like "Georgia on My Mind" and "These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)" and covering the Beatles' "Don't Let Me Down" before inviting Eric Clapton to join in on lead guitar as they revisit a cover of Marley's father's 1973 hit "I Shot the Sheriff." The lazy ramble of "Winding Roads" closes Old Soul out, sounding more like a folksy, amber-hued jam band tune than anything reggae related. Assistance from the Grateful Dead's Bob Weir and the perpetually affable Jack Johnson enhance the song's laid-back essence, and it's a lovely way to let the thoughtful, even-keeled album naturally decompress. Marley maintains a relaxed energy and a light touch throughout Old Soul, but the songs are built well enough that they feel refreshing and never sleepy. It's a pendulum swing from some of his more intense moments, but the strong material shows his depth as an artist, regardless of the muse he's pursuing.© Fred Thomas /TiVo

Released in 1973, three years after the separation of the Beatles, this compilation from 1967-1970 is more commonly known as the The Blue Album and consists of 28 songs that were recorded, as the title indicates, between 1967 and 1970. It is obviously the essential companion of its red twin, The Beatles 1962 - 1966 (The Red Album), and was mastered simultaneously. The anthology of the second period of The Beatles' career can be summed up wonderfully by simply reciting the titles of all the opening tracks (light euphemisms to say the least): Strawberry Fields Forever, Penny Lane, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, A Day In The Life, All You Need Is Love, I Am the Walrus, Magical Mystery Tour, Hey Jude, Back In The USSR, While My Guitar Gently Weeps, Here Comes The Sun, Come Together, Let It Be or Across The Universe. Again we listen, open-mouthed, witnessing the musical aftermath of adulthood on the four boys from Liverpool, who were undoubtedly some of the most accomplished musicians on the planet, both in their brilliance and in their imagination. It is fascinating, again and again, to realize that this extensive list of wonderful songs was recorded in just four short years ... © MZ/Qobuz, Translation/BM

It took Depeche Mode only four years to assemble their first singles compilation, but 12 to assemble The Singles 86>98. Appropriately, the second set was much more ambitious than The Singles 81>85, spanning two discs and 20 songs, plus a live version of "Everything Counts." The Singles 86>98 was an album that many fans, both casual and hardcore, waited patiently for, and for good reason -- Depeche Mode were always more effective as a singles band than as album artists. That's not to say that the double-disc compilation is perfect. DM's output fluctuated wildly during those 12 years, as the group hit both career highs and lows. It's possible to hear it all on this set, from "Strangelove" and "Never Let Me Down Again," through "Personal Jesus" and "Enjoy the Silence," to "I Feel You" and "Barrel of a Gun." It's possible that some casual listeners will find that the collection meanders a bit too much for their tastes, but the end result is definitive and, along with The Singles 81>85, ranks as Depeche Mode's best, most listenable album.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Dan and Pat have been writing the handbook for rock’n’roll for almost 20 years. A decade after leaving their hometown Akron in Ohio for Nashville, the Black Keys have produced Let’s Rock, a sort of return to the roots of original classic rock that pays homage to the electric guitar from the very first minute to the very last. In other words, the title of the album says it all. After both having worked with various other musicians, the pair have accepted one another’s infidelities and are back together. Dan Auerbach founded the Easy Eye Sound label named after his studio in Nashville, released his second solo album, Waiting on a Song, and produced a fine selection of albums for Yola, Shannon & The Clams, Dee White, Sonny Smith, Robert Finley and Gibson Brothers. Meanwhile, Pat Carney produced and recorded music with Calvin Johnson Michelle Branch, Tobias Jesso, Jr., Jessy Wilson, Tennis, Repeat Repeat, Wild Belle, Sad Planets Turbo Fruits and many more, and last but not least, he wrote the theme-song for BoJack Horseman on Netflix. After this success, Auerbach admits that it felt like the perfect time for their reunion, “That period really cleared my mind, and it made it so much more enjoyable when I got back together with Pat, because we’d had all that time off. I feel like the record is a testament to that feeling”.Let’s Rock revisits all the great big seventies guitar sounds that the duo admire. A vast array ranges from Glenn Schwartz and Joe Walsh from James Gang to Billy Gibbons from ZZ Top and Stealers Wheel (Sit Around and Miss You is very similar to Stuck in the Middle With You), T. Rex, Link Wray (Polydor period), Blue Öyster Cult and many more. “I didn’t want to overthink it” adds Auerbach. “I wanted it to feel spontaneous. I wanted to be able to record something not dissimilar to ‘Louie Louie’ and be perfectly happy with it. I was looking for the Troggs!”. “Funny, I was looking for the Stooges ‘Down on the Street’”, laughs Carney, who insists on his love for “big and dumb songs. They’re my favourite. I think on this record Dan and I came to a similar place in terms of what we wanted.  I was sitting in my studio for the last year just playing electric guitar, and for the first time in a while, Dan was playing a lot of electric guitar. The record is like a homage to electric guitar [..] We took a simple approach and trimmed all the fat like we used to”. All that now remains is the meat, the best bit! © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Eight years separate 2005's A Bigger Bang, the Rolling Stones' 24th album of original material, from its 1997 predecessor, Bridges to Babylon, the longest stretch of time between Stones albums in history, but unlike the three-year gap between 1986's Dirty Work and 1989's Steel Wheels, the band never really went away. They toured steadily, not just behind Bridges but behind the career-spanning 2002 compilation Forty Licks, and the steady activity paid off nicely, as the 2004 concert souvenir album Live Licks proved. The tight, sleek, muscular band showcased there was a surprise -- they played with a strength and swagger they hadn't had in years -- but a bigger surprise is that A Bigger Bang finds that reinvigorated band carrying its latter-day renaissance into the studio, turning in a sinewy, confident, satisfying album that's the band's best in years. Of course, every Stones album since their highly touted, self-conscious 1989 comeback, Steel Wheels, has been designed to get this kind of positive press, to get reviewers to haul out the cliché that this is their "best record since Exile on Main St." (Mick Jagger is so conscious of this, he deliberately compared Bigger Bang to Exile in all pre-release publicity and press, even if the scope and feel of Bang is very different from that 1972 classic), so it's hard not to take any praise with a grain of salt, but there is a big difference between this album and 1994's Voodoo Lounge. That album was deliberately classicist, touching on all of the signatures of classic mid-period, late-'60s/early-'70s Stones -- reviving the folk, country, and straight blues that balanced their trademark rockers -- and while it was often successful, it very much sounded like the Stones trying to be the Stones. What distinguishes A Bigger Bang is that it captures the Stones simply being the Stones, playing without guest stars, not trying to have a hit, not trying to adopt the production style of the day, not doing anything but lying back and playing. Far from sounding like a lazy affair, the album rocks really hard, tearing out of the gate with "Rough Justice," the toughest, sleaziest, and flat-out best song Jagger and Richards have come up with in years. It's not a red herring, either -- "She Saw Me Coming," "Look What the Cat Dragged In," and the terrific "Oh No Not You Again," which finds Mick spitting out lyrics with venom and zeal, are equally as hard and exciting, but the album isn't simply a collection of rockers. The band delves into straight blues with "Back of My Hand," turns toward pop with "Let Me Down Slow," rides a disco groove reminiscent of "Emotional Rescue" on "Rain Fall Down," and has a number of ballads, highlighted by "Streets of Love" and Keith's late-night barroom anthem "This Place Is Empty," that benefit greatly from the stripped-down, uncluttered production by Don Was and the Glimmer Twins. Throughout the album, the interplay of the band is at the forefront, which is one of the reasons the record is so consistent: even the songs that drift toward the generic are redeemed by the sound of the greatest rock & roll band ever playing at a latter-day peak. And, make no mistake about it, the Stones sound better as a band than they have in years: there's an ease and assurance to their performances that are a joy to hear, whether they're settling into a soulful groove or rocking harder than any group of 60-year-olds should. But A Bigger Bang doesn't succeed simply because the Stones are great musicians, it also works because this is a strong set of Jagger-Richards originals -- naturally, the songs don't rival their standards from the '60s and '70s, but the best songs here more than hold their own with the best of their post-Exile work, and there are more good songs here than on any Stones album since Some Girls. This may not be a startling comeback along the lines of Bob Dylan's Love and Theft, but that's fine, because over the last three decades the Stones haven't been about surprises: they've been about reliability. The problem is, they haven't always lived up to their promises, or when they did deliver the goods, it was sporadic and unpredictable. And that's what's unexpected about A Bigger Bang: they finally hold up their end of the bargain, delivering a strong, engaging, cohesive Rolling Stones album that finds everybody in prime form. Keith is loose and limber, Charlie is tight and controlled, Ronnie lays down some thrilling, greasy slide guitar, and Mick is having a grand time, making dirty jokes, baiting neo-cons, and sounding more committed to the Stones than he has in years. Best of all, this is a record where the band acknowledges its age and doesn't make a big deal about it: they're not in denial, trying to act like a younger band, they've simply accepted what they do best and go about doing it as if it's no big deal. But that's what makes A Bigger Bang a big deal: it's the Stones back in fighting form for the first time in years, and they have both the strength and the stamina to make the excellent latter-day effort everybody's been waiting for all these years.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Coasting on the success of Some Girls, the Stones offered more of the same on Emotional Rescue. Comprised of leftovers from the previous album's sessions and hastily written new numbers, Emotional Rescue may consist mainly of filler, but it's expertly written and performed filler. The Stones toss off throwaways like the reggae-fueled, mail-order bride anthem "Send It to Me" or rockers like "Summer Romance" and "Where the Boys Go" with an authority that makes the record a guilty pleasure, even if it's clear that only two songs -- the icy but sexy disco-rock of "Emotional Rescue" and the revamped Chuck Berry rocker "She's So Cold" -- come close to being classic Stones.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

For only the second time in her career, jazz pianist and vocalist Diana Krall deviates from her tried, true m.o. of covering easily identifiable jazz standards. On Glad Rag Doll she teams with producer T-Bone Burnett and his stable of studio aces. Here the two-time Grammy winner covers mostly vaudeville and jazz tunes written in the 1920s and '30s, some relatively obscure. Most of the music here is from her father's collection of 78-rpm records. Krall picked 35 tunes from that music library and gave sheet music to Burnett. He didn't reveal his final selections until they got into the studio. Given their origins, these songs remove the sheen of detached cool that is one of Krall's vocal trademarks. Check the speakeasy feel on opener "We Just Couldn't Say Goodbye," with Marc Ribot's airy chords, Jay Bellerose's loose shuffle, and Dennis Crouch's strolling upright bass. Krall's vocal actually seems to express delight in this loose and informal proceeding -- though her piano playing is, as usual, tight, top-notch. The shimmering sentimental nocturnal balladry there gives way to swing in "Just Like a Butterfly That's Caught in the Rain," which stands out because of the interplay between Ribot's ukulele, a pair of basses, and Bellerose's brushes. Krall's vocal hovers; she lets the melody guide her right through the middle. On the title cut, her only accompanist is Ribot on an acoustic guitar. Being the best-known tune in the bunch, it's easy to compare this reading with many others, but Krall's breathy vocal fully inhabits the lyric and melody and makes them her own. A few tracks stand apart from the album's theme. There's the modern take on Betty James' rockabilly single "I'm a Little Mixed Up," which allows Burnett to indulge himself a little and showcases a rarity: Krall playing rock & roll piano. The atmospheric reading of Doc Pomus' "Lonely Avenue" is somewhat radical, but is among the finest moments here. Burnett gets his obligatory reverb on here, but the weave of his and Ribot's guitars (and the latter's banjo) and the mandola by Howard Coward (Elvis Costello in one of several guest appearances) is arresting. The arrangement also contains an odd yet compelling reference to Miles Davis' "Right Off (Theme from Jack Johnson)"; Krall's piano solo is rife with elliptical, meandering lines and chord voicings. But vocally she gets inside the tune's blues and pulls them out with real authority. Glad Rag Doll is not the sound of Krall reinventing herself so much as it's the comfortable scratching of an old, persistent itch. The warmth, sophistication, humor, and immediacy present on this set make it a welcome addition to her catalog.© Thom Jurek /TiVo